Win me and wear me,-let him anfwer me:-
Come, follow me, boy; come, fir boy, follow me;
Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence,
Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.

Leon. Brother,

I

[niece;

Ant. Content yourself; God knows, I lov'd my
And the is dead, flander'd to death by villains;
That dare as well answer a man, indeed,

As I dare take a ferpent by the tongue:
Boys, apes, braggarts, jacks, milkfops !--
Leon. Brother Anthony,-

[them, yea,
Ant. Hold you content; What, man! I know
And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
Scambling 2, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys,
That lye, and cog, and flout, deprave and flander,
Go antickly, and fhow outward hideousness,
And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durft,
And this is all.

Leon. But, brother Anthony,-
Ant. Come, 'tis no matter;

Do not you meddle, let me deal in this. [patience.
Pedro. Gentlemen both, we will not wake your
My heart is forry for your daughter's death;
But on my honour, the was charg'd with nothing
But what was true, and very full of proof.

Leon. My lord, my lord,

Pedro. I will not hear you.

Leon. No?

Come, brother, away :-I will be heard.-
Ant. And fhal!,

Or fome of us will smart for it.
Enter Benedick.

Pedro. See, fee,

Bene. Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, if you charge it against me :-) —I pray you, chufe ano ther fubject.

Claud. Nay, then give him another staff; this last was broke croís 3.

Pedro. By this light, he changes more and more; I think, he be angry indeed.

Claud. If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle+.

Bene. Shall I fpeak a word in your ear?
Claud. God bless me from a challenge!

Bene. You are a villain;—I jest not:-I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare-Do me right, or I will proteft your cowardice. You have kill'd a sweet lady, and her death fhall fall heavy on you:-Let me hear from you.

Claud. Well, I will meet you, fo I may have good cheer.

Pedro. What, a feaft? a feaft?

Claud. I' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calves-head and a capon; the which if I do not carve most curiously, say my knife's naught.—Shall I not find a woodcock too?

Bene. Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes eafily.

Pedro. I'll tell thee, how Beatrice prais'd thy wit the other day: I said, thou hadft a fine wit; True, fays the, a fine little one; No, faid I, a great wit; Right, faid the, a great grofs one; Nay, faid I, a good wit; Juft, fays the, it burts no body; Nay, faid I, the gentleman is wife; Certain, faid the, a wife gentle[Exeunt ambo.man; Nay, said I, he hath the tongues; That I believe, faid the, for be fwore a thing to me on Monday night, which he forfwore on Tuesday morning; there's a double tongue, there's two tongues. Thus did the, an hour together, tranf-fhape thy particular virtues; yet, at laft, fhe concluded with a figh, thou waft the propereft man in Italy.

Here comes the man we went to seek.
Claud. Now, fignior!

What news?

Bene. Good day, my lord.

Pedro. Welcome, fignior:

You are almoft come to part almost a fray.

Claud. We had like to have had our two nofes

fnapt off with two old men without teeth.

Claud. For the which the wept heartily, and said, fhe car'd not.

Pedro. Yea, that she did; but yet, for all that, an if the did not hate him deadly, fhe would love him

Pedro. Leonato and his brother: What think'ft | dearly; the old man's daughter told us all.

thou? had we fought, I doubt, we should have been too young for them.

Bene. In a falfe quarrel there is no true valour. I came to feek you both.

Claud. We have been up and down to feek thee: for we are high-proof melancholy, and would fain have it beaten away: Wilt thou use thy wit?

Bene. It is in my scabbard: Shall I draw it? Pedro. Doft thou wear thy wit by thy fide? Claud. Never any did fo, though very many have been befide their wit.-I will bid thee draw, as we do the minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.

Claud. All, all; and moreover, God faw him when he was bid in the garden.

Pedro. But when fhall we fet the favage bull's horns on the fenfible Benedick's head?

Claud. Yea, and text underneath, Here dwells Be nedick the married man?

Bene. Fare you well, boy; you know my mind; I will leave you now to your golfip-like humour: you break jefts as braggarts do their blades, which, God be thanked, hurt not.-My lord, for your many courtefies I thank you; I must discontinue your company: your brother, the baftard, is fled from Meflina; you have, among you, kili'd a fweet and innocent lady: For my lord Lack-beard there, he and I fhall meet; and till then, peace be with him! [Exit Benedick.

Pedro. He is in earnest.

A foin is a thrust or pufh with a weapon. 2 That is, fcrambling. A fcambler is one who vifits about among his friends to get a dinner. 3 An allufion to tilting. 4 This is fimilar to a proverb now ftill in ufe, if he be angry, let him turn the buckle of his girdle; the meaning of which is, If he is in an ill humour, let him continue fo till he is in a better.

Claud.

Claud. In moft profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for the love of Beatrice.

Pedro. And hath challeng'd thee?
Claud. Moft fincerely.

Pedro. What a pretty thing man is, when he goes in his doublet and hofe, and leaves off his wit1! Enter Dogberry, Verges, Conrade and Borachio guarded.

Claud. He is then a giant to an ape: but then is an ape a doctor to fuch a man.

Pedro. But, foft you, let be; pluck up my heart, and be fad: Did he not fay, my brother was filed?

Dogb. Come, you, fir, if justice cannot tame you, the shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay, an you be a curfing hypocrite once, you must be look'd to.

Pedro. How now, two of my brother's men bound! Borachio, one!

Claud. Hearken after their offence, my lord!
Pedro. Officers, what offence have these men done?

Claud. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare femblance that I lov'd it first.

Dogb. Come, bring away the plaintiffs; by this time our fexton hath reform'd fignior Leonato of the matter: And, masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an aís.

Verg. Here, here comes mafter fignior Leonato,

and the Sexton too.

Re-enter Leonato and Antonio, with the Sexton.
Leon. Which is the villain? Let me fee his eyes;
That when I note another man like him,
I may avoid him: Which of these he? [me.
Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on
Leon. Art thou the flave, that with thy breath
Mine innocent child?
[haft kill'd

Bora. Yea, even I alone.

Leon. No, not fo, villain; thou bely'st thyself; Here ftand a pair of honourable men,

A third is fled, that had a hand in it :

I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death;

Dogb. Marry, fir, they have committed falfe re-Record it with your high and worthy deeds: port; moreover, they have spoken untruths; fe-'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. condarily, they are flanders; fixth and laftly, they Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, have bely'd a lady; thirdly, they have verify'd Yet I must speak: Chufe your revenge yourself; unjust things: and, to conclude, they are lying Impofe me to what penance your invention knaves. Can lay upon my fin: yet finn'd I not, But in mistaking.

Pedro. First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I ask thee what's their offence; fixth and laftly, why they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay to their charge?

Pedro. By my foul, nor I;
And yet, to fatisfy this good old man,
I would bend under any heavy weight

Claud. Rightly reafon'd, and in his own divi-That he'll enjoin me to.
fion; and, by my troth, there's one meaning well
fuited 2.

Pedro. Whom have you offended, mafters, that you are thus bound to your answer? this learned conftable is too cunning to be understood: What's your offence?

Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live,
That were impoffible; but, I pray you both,
Poffefs the people in Melfina here
How innocent the dy’d; and, if your love
Can labour aught in fad invention,
Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb,
And fing it to her bones; fing it to-night :-
To-morrow morning come you to my house;
And fince you could not be my fon-in-law,
Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
And the alone is heir to both of us;
Give her the right you should have given her coufin,
And fo dies my revenge.

Bora. Sweet prince, let me go no further to mine answer; do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have deceiv'd even your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light; who, in the night, overheard me confeffing to this man, how Don John your brother incens'd me to flander the lady Hero; how you were brought into the orchard, and faw me court Margaret in Hero's garments; Claud. O noble fir, how you disgrac'd her, when you should marry her: my villainy they have upon record; which I had rather feal with my death, than repeat over to my fhame: the lady is dead upon mine and my mafter's falfe accufation; and briefly, I defire nothing but the reward of a villain.

Pedro. Runs not this fpeech like iron through your blood?

Claud. I have drunk poison, whiles he utter'd it. Pedro. But did my brother fet thee on to this? Bora. Yea, and paid me richly for the practice of it. Pedro. He is compos'd and fram'd of treachery :And fled he is upon this villainy.

Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
I do embrace your offer; and dispose
For henceforth of poor Claudio.

Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming;
To-night I take my leave.-This naughty man
Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
Who, I believe, was pack'd in all this wrong,
Hir'd to it by your brother.

Bora. No, by my foul, fhe was not;
Nor knew not what she did, when she spoke to me;
But always hath been just and virtuous,
In any thing that I do know by her.

Dogb. Moreover, fir, (which, indeed, is not under

1 Dr. Warburton fays, it was efteemed a mark of levity and want of becoming gravity, at that time, to go in the doublet and hofe, and leave off the cloak, to which this well-turned expreffion alludes. The thought is, that love makes a man as ridiculous, and expofes im as naked as being in the doublet and hose without a cloak. That is, put into many modes, or shapes.

Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who,
I think, hath legs.
[Exit Margaret.
Bene. And therefore will come. [Sings.]
The god of love,

white and black) this plaintiff here, the offender, Bene. If you use them, Margaret, you must puť did call me afs; I beseech you, let it be remem- in the pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous bered in his punishment: And alfo, the watch weapons for maids. heard them talk of one Deformed: they fay, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it; and borrows money in God's name; the which he hath used so long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's fake: Pray you examine him on that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honeft pains.

That fits above,

And knows me, and knows me,

How pitiful I deferve,

Dogb. Your worship fpeaks like a most thank-I mean in finging; but in loving, Leander the ful and reverend youth; and I praife God for you. good fwimmer, Troilus the firft employer of panLeon. There's for thy pains. dars, and a whole book full of these quondam carpet-mongers, whofe names yet run fmoothly in the

Dogb. God fave the foundation!

I thank thee.

Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prifoner, and even road of a blank verfe, why, they were never fo truly turn'd over and over, as my poor felf, in Dogb. 1 leave an arrant knave with your worlove: Marry, I cannot fhew it in rhime; I have fhip; which, I beseech your worship to correct try'd; can find out no rhime to lady but baby, an yourself, for the example of others. God keep innocent rhime; for fcorn, born, a hard rhime; for your worthip; I wish your worship well; Godchool, fool, a babbling rhime; very ominous endreftore you to health: I humbly give you leave to ings: No, I was not born under a rhiming planet, depart ; and if a merry meeting may be with'd, God for I cannot woo in feitival terms.—

prohibit it.-Come, neighbour.

[Exeunt.

Enter Beatrice.

Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Sweet Beatrice, would't thou come when I call Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you to

thee?

Beat. Yea, fignior, and depart when you bid me.
Bene. O, ftay but till then!

Beat. Then, is fpoken; fare you well now :and yet ere I go, let me go with that I came for, which is, with knowing what hath part between you and Claudio.

Bene. Only foul words; and thereupon I will

kifs thee.

Beat. Foul words are but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noifome; therefore I will depart unkifs'd.

Bene. Thou haft frighted the word out of its right fenfe, fo forcible is thy wit: But I must tell thee plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either I muft fhortly hear from him, or I will fubfcribe him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Beat. For them all together; which maintain'd

Marg. To have no man come over 2 me why, fo politick a state of evil, that they will not admit fhall I always keep below ftairs ? any good part to intermingle with them. But for

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's which of my good parts did you first fuffer love for mouth, it catches.

Marg. And your's as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not.

Benc. A most manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman; and fo, I pray thee, call Beatrice I give thee the bucklers 3.

:

me?

Bene. Suffer love; a good epithet! I do fuffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Beat. In fpight of your heart, I think; alas! poor heart! If you spight it for my fake, I will fpight it for yours; for I will never love that Marg. Give us the swords, we have bucklers of which my friend hates.

our own.

1 Dr. Warburton comments on this paffage as follows: There could not be a pleasanter ridicule on the fashion, than the conftable's defcant on his own blunder. They heard the confpirators. fatyrize the fashion, whom they took to be a man firnamned, Deformed. This the conftable applies with exquifite humour to the courtiers, in a defcription of one of the most fantastical fashions of that time, the men's wearing rings in their ears, and indulging a favorite lock of hair which was brought before, and tied with ribbons, and called a love-lock. Against this fafhion William Prynne wrote his treatife, called, The Unlovelynefs of Love-Locks." 2 To come over probably means here the fame as to overcome, in its moit fignificant fenfe, when applied to a woman. 3 Meaning, yield.

Bere.

Bene. Thou and I are too wife to woo peace- [ ably.

Beat. It appears not in this confeffion; there's not one wife man among twenty, that will praife) himself.

Bene. An old, an old inftance, Beatrice, that liv'd in the time of good neighbours 1; if a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he fhall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Beat. And how long is that, think you?

Bene. Question 2 ?——Why, an hour in clamour, and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is moft expedient for the wife, (if Don Worm, his confcience, find no impediment to the contrary) to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself: So much for praifing myself, (who, I myself will bear witnefs, is praife-worthy) and now tell me, How doth your cousin ? Beat. Very ill.

Bene. And how do you?
Beat. Very ill too.

Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend: there will I leave you too, for here comes one in hatte. Enter Urfula.

Enter Leonato, Benedick, Margaret, Urfula, Antonio,
Friar, and Hero.

Friar. Did not I tell you fhe was innocent? [her,
Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, who accus'd

U Madam, you must come to your uncle;
yonder's old coil at home: it is proved, my lady Upon the error that you heard debated:
Hero hath been falfely accus'd, the prince and But Margaret was in fome fault for this ;
Claudio mightily abus'd; and Don John is the au-Although againft her will, as it appears
thor of all, who is fled and gone: Will you come In the true courfe of all the question.
prefently

Beat. Will you go hear this news, fignior? Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be bury'd in thy eyes; and, moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle. [Exeunt.

Done to death by flanderous tongues
Wastle Hera, that bere lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies:
So the life, that dy'd with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.

Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Prafing her when I am dumb.--

Ant. Well, I am glad that all things fort fo well.
Bene. And fo am I, being elfe by faith enforc'd
To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen all,
Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves;
And, when I fend for you, come hither mask'd ;
The prince and Claudio promis'd by this hour
To visit me :- -You know your office, brother;
with And give her to young Claudio.
You must be father to your brother's daughter,
[Exeunt Ladies.

Ant. Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
Bene. Friar, I muft entreat your pains, I think.
Friar. To do what, fignior?

Bent. To bind me, or undo me, one of them.-
Signior Leon to, truth it is, good fignior,
Your niece regards me with an eye of favour. [true.
Lion. That eye my daughter lent her; 'Tis moft
Bere. And I do with an eye of love requite her.
Leon. The fight whereof, I think, you had from
[will A

me,

From Claudio and the prince; But what's your
Bene. Your anfwer, fir, is enigmatical:

Now mufick found, and fing your folemn hymn. But for my will, my will is, your good will

SONG.

Pardon, Goddess of the night,
Those that flew thy virgin knight;
For the cubich, with fongs of woe,
Round about ber tomb they go.
Midnight, allift our moan;
Help us to high and groan,

May ftand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
In the eftate of honourable marriage ;--

In which, good friar, I thall defire your help.
Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Frior. And my help.

Here comes the prince, and Claudio.

Enter Don Pedro and Claudis, with Attendanti.
Pedro. Good morrow to this fair affembly.

* That is, when men were not envious, but every one gave another his due. 2 That is, what a queftion's there, or what a foolish question do you ask !

Lean. Good morrow, prince; good morrow,
Claudio;

We here attend you; are you yet determin'd
To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
Claud. I'll hold my mind, were the an Ethiope.
Leon. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar
ready.
[Exit Antonio.

Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, what's
That you have fuch a February face, [the matter,
So full of froft, of ftorm, and cloudiness?

Claud. Ithink he thinks upon the favage bull :-
Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with gold,
And all Europa fhall rejoice at thee;
As once Europa did at lufty Jove,
When he would play the noble beast in love.

Bene. Bull Jove, fir, had an amiable low;
And fome fuch strange bull leapt your father's cow,
And got a calf in that fame noble feat,
Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
Re-enter Antonio, with Hero, Beatrice, Margaret,
and Urfula, mafk`d.

Claud. For this I owe you here come other
reck'nings.

Which is the lady I must feize upon?

Ant. This fame is the, and I do give you her. Claud. Why, then the's mine: Sweet, let me fee your face. [hand] Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her Before this friar, and fwear to marry her.

Claud. Give me your hand before this holy friar; I am your husband, if you like of me.

Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife: [Unmasking. And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero?

Hero. Nothing certainer:

One Hero dy'd defil'd; but I do live,
And, furely as I live, I am a maid.

dead!

Pedro. The former Hero! Hero, that
Leon. She dy'd, my lord, but whiles her flander
liv'd.

Friar. All this amazement can I qualify;
When, after that the holy rites are ended,
I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
Mean time let wonder feem familiar,
And to the chapel let us prefently.

Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice?
Beat. Ianfwer to that name; What is your will?!
Bene. Do not you love me?

Beat. Why, no, no more than reason.

Bene. Why, then, your uncle, and the prince,
and Claudio,

Have been deceived; they fwore you did.
Beat. Do not you love me?

Bene. Troth, no, no more than reafon.

Beat. Why, then, my coufin, Margaret, and
Urfula,

Are much deceiv'd; for they did fwear you did.

Beat. They fwore, that you were well-nigh dead Bene. 'Tis no fuch matter :-Then, you do not love me?

Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence.
Leon. Come, coufin, I am fure you love the
gentleman.

Claud. And I'll be fworn upon't, that he loves her;
For here's a paper, written in his hand,
A halting fonnet of his own pure brain,
Fashion'd to Beatrice.

Hero. And here's another,

Writ in my coufin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts!-Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.

Beat. I would not deny you ;-but, by this good day, I yield upon great perfuafion; and, partiy, to fave your life, for I was told, you were in a confumption.

Bene. Peace, I will stop your mouth.—

[Killing bar. Pedro. How doft thou, Benedick the married man? Bene. I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour: Doft thou think I care for a fatire, or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, he fhall wear nothing handfome about him: In brief, fince I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpofe that the world can fay against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have faid against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclufion.-For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinfinan, live,unbruis'd, and love my coufin.

Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst have denied Beatrice, that I might have cudgell'd thee out of thy fingle life, to make thee a double dealer; which, out of queftion, thou wilt be, if my coufin do not look exceedingly narrowly to thee.

Bene. Come, come, we are friends :-let's have a dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives' heels.

Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Bene. First, o' my word; therefore, play, mufick.--Prince, thou art fad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife: there is no ftaft more reverend than one tipt with horn.

Enter Mefinger.

Me. My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight, And brought with armed men back to Metfina. Bene. Think not on him till to-morrow: I'll devite thee brave punishments for him--Strike up, piper

[Danct,

[Exeunt

LOVE's